XTrash
by TheMerryVingian
Summary: Professor Charles Xavier runs a secret trailer park for mutants. Rated R for language - they are white trash, after all...
1. Some of them ketchup packets

Disclaimers: I don't own X-Men – either the comic series or the movie. Marvel owns the comics, and Twentieth Century Fox owns the movie. So be nice and don't sue, okay?

This is fiction, not fact. Any similarities to anyone living, dead, or somewhere in between are purely coincidental.

A/N: Scott and Jean Grey are cousins in this fic…

X-Trash

by TheMerryVingian

_Professor Charles Xavier's Trailer Park for the Gifted…_

"All right, which one of you little shits drank the last beer?" Logan growled from the kitchen.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty Pride began to tremble apprehensively, for Logan could get quite riled, especially after a drinking binge.

"Speak up, or all y'all are gettin' ass-whoopins from me!" Logan shouted.

Bobby, trembling, raised his hand. "Uhh, I did it, Logan. Last night. I'm sorry, but I was thirsty. I didn't mean to drink your beer."

"_My _beer?" Logan shot back. "That was you kids' breakfast for this morning. Now there ain't nothing to eat… unless one of you wants to get out there and pick up some of them ketchup packets that people throwed out."

All three got up, sighing. "I'll do it." said Rogue. "Maybe I'll find me some more leftover hair dye. I am running out."

"I'll help." said Bobby. "Let's go, Kitty." Kitty and Bobby followed Rogue out of the door of the trailer. Logan then slumped down onto the couch, one of many pieces of furniture that they had collected from the city dump.

"What the hell's with all the goddamn yelling?" Logan heard from the bedroom. He peeked up. It was Scott, his roommate, wearing his ruby red shades, with boxers and an AC/DC T-shirt, both full of holes, of course.

"Bobby drank the last beer last night," Logan spat. "Now there ain't nothin' to drink around here, or to eat. I sent the kids out for ketchup packets, but that'll take time."

"So go buy some more stuff, then," suggested Scott.

"Why the hell should I use _my _money to buy you guys shit?"

"Cause you owe me for all them times I bought shit for you."

"Yeah, well… I ain't got no money right now."

"Well, maybe if you'd go out and get a job, you wouldn't have to come borrow money from me. Though I have a feeling you would anyway – it's what you do."

"Hey, get outta my living room if you're gonna talk shit about me." Logan snarled.

"Uhh, this is _my _living room, and _my _trailer. And lest you forget, I let you move in here on condition that you share with the rent," replied Scott, "And I still ain't seen dime one from you."

"Yeah, well… I sent off my resume for that one job. I just ain't heard back from 'em."

"You mean the beer-tasting job you applied for on that last roll of toilet paper. Real smooth." Scott retorted sarcastically. "I guess you're as good as hired there."

"What's going on out there?" a female voice said from the bedroom.

"Nothing, honey. Go on back to sleep," Scott answered. But instead, a woman dressed oh-so-finely in one of Scott's other hard rock T-shirts and hair-curlers came out. It was Jean Grey.

"Hey there, cuz. Did you sleep good last night?" Scott inquired.

"Mmm-hmmm," replied Jean.

Scott looked over her, smiling. Jean smiled back. "I swear, cousin, you look finer 'n finer every day," said Scott.

"Thanks, Scott."

"AHEM!" Logan piped up, waking Scott from his love-trance. "_We're still outta beer_."

"So go ask Charles." Jean answered. "Maybe he'll loan you some money."

"Yeah, well… I kinda still owe him from when I bet him that I could drink 'im under the table."

"Serves ya right," Scott chimed in. "You should know better than to try to out drink the Prof."

"Well, Logan," Jean spoke up, "it's either ask Charles for money, or be S.O.L."

Logan sighed. "All right." And with that, he began the long walk to Charles' trailer, hoping he would be generous enough, or drunk enough, to give Logan beer money.

Well, this isn't much, but if it's well enough received, I'll write more. Please R&R!


	2. Playin' with Cerebro drunk again, are we...

Disclaimers: I don't own X-Men – the comics or the movie. Marvel owns the comics, and Twentieth Century Fox and Bryan Singer own the Movie. So nobody sue, okay?

This is fiction, not real.

Well, you've waited for quite a while, so here's chapter 2 of…

X-Trash

by

TheMerryVingian

Logan stepped out of Scott and Jean's trailer and took a walk a couple of trailers down, to Charles' trailer. It was a little nicer than the others – the screen door didn't have any holes in it, and there were real curtains hanging in the windows, not old bed sheets. Logan stopped at the front door and knocked.

"Who is it?" a voice said from inside.

"Professor Charles? It's me, Logan. I need to ask you something."

"Is it important?" Charles asked. "I'm using Cerebro right now."

_Cerebro my ass_, thought Logan. _He's drinkin' a fifth right now as we speak, I'll bet! _"Yes," Logan finally answered.

"Just a second." There was the faint sound of a bottle being put down on a table and cords being unplugged. Logan then heard a wheelchair roll up to the door, and then the door opening. "Yes, Logan," said Charles, his words slightly slurred. "What do you want?"

"Playin' with Cerebro drunk again, are we?" Logan said sarcastically.

"Yeah, so what's it to ya?"

"Well… nothing. It's just that… we're outta beer and stuff to eat. I was wondering if you could loan me some money to go up to the store."

"Sure, Logan." Charles replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "It's not like you already owe me money or something."

_Damn! _Logan thought. _He's not quite drunk enough! _"Well…" he finally said to Charles, "could you just… spot me one more time? Y'see, Bobby drank the last beer, and how many ketchup packets can the kids find?"

"Logan, you really need to go out and get a job."

_Easy for you to say, asshole! _Logan thought once again. _Sittin' in that damn wheelchair collectin' disability! _"I promise I'll start lookin'." Logan said, failing to notice that it rang hollow towards the Professor. "_Please_…"

Charles reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Though it was against his better judgment, he decided to help Logan once more out of his little jam. He handed him $20.

"Oh thank you so much." Logan replied joyously.

"That's the last time, Logan," Charles said. "So you'd better make it count this time. And _start lookin' for a job._ I mean it."

"Yes sir."

And with that, Logan walked hurriedly towards his and Scott's trailer. On the way, he saw the kids coming back with several handfuls of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and relish packets.

"_Hey kids!" _Logan called out to them. _"The Prof loaned me 20 bucks! We're eatin' today!"_

"HOORAY!!!" Rogue, Bobby, and Kitty cheered!

TO BE CONTINUED…

Well, that's all I'm gonna write for now. Sorry it took so long to update, but I was busy working on another fanfic that I wanted to get done in time for Christmas, since it had to do with Christmas. And you ought to read it, especially if you like the Matrix Trilogy. It's called A Matrix Christmas Carol, and it's posted here, of course. But I digress, so please R&R. And more will be coming soon…


End file.
